


heaven hide your eyes

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, Establishing OT3, F/F, F/M, Multi, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Resolving Romantic and Sexual Tension, Top Dorothea Arnault, Vaginal Fingering, negotiating relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:09:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29578686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Ingrid is dating Dorothea. She's dating Dorothea and she's happy. She also just happens to be in love with Sylvain who, according to her girlfriend, is also in love with her.Dorothea, however, sees an opportunity and wants her girlfriend to be the happiest she can be.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Dorothea Arnault/Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Kudos: 27
Collections: Anonymous





	heaven hide your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This starts with Dorogrid but evolves into a Dorogridvain OT3. It's......it's a lot of sex.

Dorothea waits until she has two fingers crooked inside Ingrid to ask, leaning down so that her breath falls over Ingrid’s ear: “Do you want to fuck Sylvain?”

Ingrid, head tossed back in the throes of her girlfriend’s efforts, goes completely rigid, clenching around Dorothea’s long, elegant fingers. _“What?”_ she squeaks out, completely horrified. 

Dorothea giggles and presses her lips to the side of Ingrid’s neck. She slowly pulls her fingers out, drawing out the motion until just the tips remain sunk into Ingrid. “Do you,” she repeats, hot against Ingrid’s skin, “want to fuck Sylvain?”

Ingrid squirms away from her girlfriend’s hand, sliding up the bed and pushing herself up in the pillows. Flushed and sweaty, Ingrid frowns, folding her arms over her bare chest. “What the hell, Dorothea?”

Dorothea sits back on her legs, admiring the lingering slickness on her fingers. “I’m just asking if you want to fuck your childhood best friend, babe. Is it really that surprising of a question?”

Ingrid’s mouth opens and then closes dramatically. “Dorothea. Sylvain is my best friend. Why would I want to—” She can’t even bring herself to finish the question because she already hates that she knows the answer. 

Dorothea smirks. Something must be showing on her face and Ingrid stubbornly looks away from her girlfriend. “Babe, if I was your gay awakening, please tell me Sylvain was your straight or bisexual awakening. He’s hot as fuck and you grew up with that. Of course, you would want to fuck Sylvain.” She places a hand on Ingrid’s shin, leaning forward a little. “I’m not offended.”

Ingrid slowly looks back at Dorothea. “You’re not?”

Dorothea pushes Ingrid’s legs apart and begins slowly crawling back up Ingrid’s body. “Maybe I should be, but you know Sylvain and my history better than anyone. He’s a good lay. And,” she rubs her hands up the insides of Ingrid’s thighs, “I know that he likes you.”

Ingrid blinks. “He what?”

Dorothea hums and leans forward, kissing the edge of Ingrid’s mouth. “I don’t love Sylvain like I love you, but I know he loves you. And,” she bites Ingrid’s bottom lip slowly, “I know that you like him too, Ingy.”

Ingrid forces down a whine and slowly pushes her girlfriend back by the shoulders. “Dorothea. Shouldn’t this be harder?”

Dorothea laughs. “If you want hard, you’re dating the wrong person.” She palms one of Ingrid’s breasts languidly. “Sylvain does hard very well.”

Ingrid huffs and pushes her back. “Thea, stop seducing me. I’m trying to have a serious conversation.”

At the sound of genuine frustration, Dorothea immediately stops, leaning back. She blinks at Ingrid, looking apologetic. 

“Sorry. I forgot you Faerghus people are all stuffy and shit.” She folds her hands atop Ingrid’s knee. “I’m listening.”

“How long have you known I have feelings for Sylvain?”

“About as long as we’ve been dating,” Dorothea answers immediately. 

Ingrid bites her lip. “But I didn’t even–”

“–Realize you had them. I know.”

Ingrid rubs her forehead. “And you want to, what, invite Sylvain to bed with us? And he’s not going to think that’s weird?”

Dorothea rolls her eyes. “I’d lock you two in the bedroom together, but I know you’d back down the moment I left the room. Ingrid, honey, this would _not_ be Sylvain and my first threesome. It would just be our first threesome with a girl we’re both in love with.” 

Ingrid groans. “But what do I do about everything else?”

Dorothea smiles at her and Ingrid’s stomach flips in the softer, romantic way it does sometimes. “You tell him that you love him, Ingrid. And that whatever friend-love Sylvain and I have shouldn’t get in the way of that.”

Ingrid slowly drops her hands from around her chest and reaches out for Dorothea, drawing her girlfriend back in as she slides down on the bed. She cups her face and kisses her, slowly and languidly. Dorothea hums, one hand cupping the side of Ingrid’s breast and thumbing at her nipple. Ingrid props a knee up, pushing between Dorothea’s thighs and letting her girlfriend grind down. 

“I love you,” Ingrid says into the kiss. She pauses, her lips just a breath away Dorothea’s. “I think I love Sylvain too. But, I love you.” 

Dorothea smiles and drops her hand down, drawing a slow circle on Ingrid’s clit that sends tingles across her whole body. Her finger drifts back, flicking through Ingrid’s folds and Ingrid gasps. 

“When you fuck him though, you should ask him if you can do the fucking.”

Ingrid opens her mouth to ask what her girlfriend means, but Dorothea attacks her lips before the question comes out. The next coherent thing Ingrid manages is a broken moan of Dorothea’s name as the songstress sinks two fingers back into her with little warning, picking right back up where they had been before the distraction. 

* * *

Dorothea invites Sylvain and Ingrid both over for dinner the next day, despite Ingrid’s protests that she needs more time. They eat takeout, since no one trusts Dorothea in the kitchen, and Ingrid watches the smirk on her girlfriend’s face widen with every hour. She rubs her thighs together under the table and tries to make her glare actually intimidating. It obviously doesn’t work, and by the end of the meal, Sylvain is suspicious. 

He moves like he’s going to leave and Ingrid grabs his hand, taking a shaky breath. “Wait, Sylvain. I wanted to talk to you.”

Dorothea smiles and vanishes from the room immediately, slipping into her bedroom and closing the door. Ingrid pulls Sylvain back so that he’s sitting at the kitchen table. He looks good today in a blue shirt and jeans, but he looks worried as he adjusts his grip to hold her hand properly. 

“Everything okay?”

“I love you,” Ingrid blurts.

Sylvain’s eyes grow wide and his head snaps towards Dorothea’s closed door. “Ingrid.” He sounds pained. 

“Dorothea knows. She’s known longer than I have. It’s crept up on me, but, Sylvain, I promise it’s the truth.”

He’s frowning now. “I think you know how I feel, Ingrid. But, you’re dating Dorothea.” His throat bobs when he swallows. 

Ingrid leans forward, stealing a brief kiss. Sylvain’s eyes flutter and then he pulls back, still frowning. Ingrid laughs and touches his face. 

“Sylvain, we’re in her apartment. She invited you here so that I could tell you that.”

The door cracks open behind them and Dorothea steps partway back in, leaning against the frame. The ties of her red silk shirt seem to have loosened and Ingrid’s thighs clench. She knows where Dorothea wants this encounter to go. 

“Ingrid’s the love of my life,” Dorothea says calmly. “But she’s also the love of yours. And, since she loves us both, I don’t see any reason we all can’t play nice.”

Sylvain’s eyes dart over Dorothea as his frown loosens, realizing that everything that is happening isn’t some twisted dream. He looks back at Ingrid. “You really do?”

She leans forward, kissing him again, and letting it linger. She rests her forehead against his and smiles. “I really do.”

Sylvain pulls away, looking between Dorothea and the bedroom. “And where is tonight supposed to go?” 

Dorothea smirks. “Depends if you’re interested in being _under_ me again, Sylvain.” 

He raises an eyebrow, but Ingrid knows that the tension that jolts through him, causing him to sit up a bit straighter, is excitement, not confusion. “And Ingrid?”

“As cute as she is, I think she still needs to learn a few things.”

Ingrid frowns, now feeling confused herself. “What’s going on?”

“Still have the same safe word?” Sylvain asks Dorothea. Ingrid would feel ignored if not for the way that Sylvain’s hand creeps back, sliding up her knee to her mid-thigh. 

“Opera. As long as you’re good for it?”

Ingrid watches a slow smirk curl up on Sylvain’s face. “As long as you can provide since I am woefully unprepared for this ending.”

Dorothea’s gaze lands on Ingrid and the heat of it has Ingrid rising to her feet, almost instinctively moving to her girlfriend’s bedroom. “Oh,” Dorothea promises, “I’m good for it.”

Sylvain stands up quickly and ushers Ingrid in front of him, almost shoving her along towards Dorothea’s room. Ingrid yelps, stumbling off balance, but Dorothea’s arms quickly catch her and pull her against the brunette’s warm chest. Sure enough, Dorothea’s shirt gapes open at the front and Ingrid groans, already half-turned on as Dorothea pulls her into a searing kiss. 

Dorothea laughs and just walks backwards, leading Ingrid into the room. They don’t quite make it to the bed before Dorothea is stripping Ingrid’s shirt up and over her head and then reaching around to fully untie her own shirt. Ingrid reaches for her girlfriend’s bra clasp, a cute hook at the front that’s nestled between her breasts, but Sylvain is suddenly there, his chest pressed to her back as he grabs her hands. 

“Slow down, Ing,” he says. “Let’s worry about you first.”

She shivers as Sylvain places a kiss at the top of her shoulder, skimming his hands over her sides. Dorothea laughs and presses closer to Ingrid, neatly sandwiching her between the two. She cups Ingrid’s breasts and kisses her again. 

Ingrid moans at the motion, leaning into Dorothea as Sylvain slips a hand between hers and Dorothea’s bodies, unbuttoning Ingrid’s jeans. Ingrid feels his hand slide across and reach for the zipper on Dorothea’s skirt as well, tugging it down. Ingrid finally moves her hands, balling up the fabric of the skirt and pulling it down. It drops to the ground and Dorothea breaks the kiss, smirking. 

She grabs the waist of Ingrid’s pants and spins her, turning her to face Sylvain. Sylvain grins at her, wolfish and sexy and he catches her bubbling whimper with his mouth. Blindly, Ingrid fists her hands in his shirt and tries to tear it off of him, almost punching him in the jaw. Sylvain laughs and breaks the kiss, helping her remove his shirt without injuring anyone. Ingrid hesitates instead of kissing him, touching the centre of his chest curiously. 

Dorothea is right in saying that she had been Ingrid’s gay awakening as the hot girl that had sat next to her in a business elective and ruined her forever, but she’s been around Sylvain for much longer. She knows first hand how attractive he is, but this whole situation is different. His muscles are firm and warm against her, a stark contrast from Dorothea’s soft curves. He’s not the first guy she’s slept with, that honour is lost years ago to a fumbled drunken night with a friend she hardly talks to anymore, but since Dorothea came into Ingrid’s life three years ago, he is the first person besides her girlfriend to put his hands on Ingrid. 

Sylvain leans forward, kissing the side of Ingrid’s neck and Ingrid sighs, tilting into his touch to give him more to work with. Dorothea hums again and reaches around Ingrid, walking her fingers across Ingrid’s stomach until she reaches out to undo Sylvain’s belt deftly. Ingrid reaches out to help, pushing Sylvain’s jeans down until they slide to his mid-thigh. 

Dorothea catches her hands then. “Alright,” she croons. “Let’s get somewhere more comfortable, babe.”

Ingrid lets Dorothea pull her away from Sylvain until they reach the bed. Dorothea sits back and slides against the pillows, beckoning Ingrid to follow her. Ingrid slides up between Dorothea’s legs, leaning down to kiss her girlfriend. The bed dips behind her and Dorothea breaks the kiss, grinning at Sylvain. 

Ingrid purses her lips and is about to try to kiss Dorothea again when two sets of hands quickly flip her onto her back. Dorothea wraps an arm around her chest, just under her breasts, and pulls Ingrid back against her as Sylvain looms over her. Sylvain grins and reaches down, tugging Ingrid’s jeans over her hips and sliding them down her legs. 

Ingrid struggles, but Dorothea hushes her, sliding her hands up to knead at her breasts. “Stay put, babe,” she says. “Sylvain has a present for you.”

Since Sylvain had been the one not to know where tonight was going, Ingrid has no idea how he and Dorothea have already come up with this plan, but she doesn’t have room to complain as Sylvain removes her jeans, leaning down to press a kiss to her hip bone. Ingrid’s breath hitches and Dorothea squeezes her chest with a bit more force, her breath tickling Ingrid’s ears. 

“Why don’t you tell Sylvain how often you’ve thought about him when I was going down on you?” Dorothea whispers hotly. 

Ingrid whines. “Thea, I haven’t–”

Dorothea laughs and drops one hand to unlatch Ingrid’s bra. “It’s alright, sweetie, I think he wants to hear it anyway.”

Sylvain smirks up at her, toying with the band of her underwear and Ingrid’s legs clench. She goes to deny Dorothea’s claim again and Sylvain slips a finger under the side of her underwear, flicking its tip through her folds. She gasps, twisting her face back towards her girlfriend. 

“Go ahead, Sylvain,” Dorothea encourages. “She’ll be singing your name shortly.”

Ingrid lifts her hips into Sylvain’s touch as he slides her underwear over her hips and ass and she wriggles and kicks it off once he gets it to her knees. Almost immediately, Sylvain repositions, leaning down to press his tongue and teeth to the inside of her thigh. Ingrid jerks, whimpering and Dorothea hums, grabbing at her chest again. 

Dorothea rolls one of Ingrid’s nipples between her fingers, grazing her neatly-trimmed nails over the sensitive bud, and Sylvain’s tongue lands on her clit. The moan that escapes Ingrid is a messy, embarrassing sound, but she finds herself unable to care. 

Sylvain goes slower than Dorothea usually does, just barely curling his tongue around her clit. He keeps his eyes up, watching her face as she squirms. Sylvain laps at her clit slowly, half-grinning and Ingrid’s chest heaves. Dorothea clicks her tongue and bites lightly at Ingrid’s ear. Ingrid _whines_. She tries to reach for Sylvain’s hair, but Dorothea abandons her breasts to grab Ingrid’s hands, pulling them back down against the bed. 

“Say his name, Ingrid,” Dorothea teases. “That’s what he wants.” 

Sylvain’s grin widens and he fastens his lips over her clit and sucks. Ingrid gasps and moans his name loudly. She rocks her hips up against him uselessly and Sylvain repeats the action, this time adding a swipe of his tongue in a slow circle. 

Dorothea kisses the side of her neck and Ingrid feels like she’s going to die. Dorothea is already a fan of teasing and drawing out Ingrid’s pleasure, but Sylvain’s pace feels like torture. She’s going to _die_ here, trapped between her best friend-slash-lover-maybe-something-more and her girlfriend. 

“Sylvain,” she whimpers again, her hips bucking. “Please.”

He seems to take the desperate tone of voice to heart and sucks harder at her clit. Ingrid keens, but Sylvain doesn’t let up, pulling off before immediately poking his tongue between her folds. Dorothea’s hands stay on Ingrid’s wrists, holding her hands down, and Sylvain lifts a hand. He presses her open with two fingers in a v-shape and laps at her, fucking his tongue against her. 

“Sylvain,” Ingrid moans as her back arches away from Dorothea. “Sylvain!” 

His finger adjusts, starting to rub hard circles at her clit as he picks up the pace further, fucking his tongue into her in short, fast strokes. Dorothea lets out a breathy sigh and nips at Ingrid’s ear again. 

“Go deep, Sylvain,” Dorothea suggests. “Use your fingers and really drag into her. She likes it best when you keep your tongue on her clit.”

Sylvain immediately follows Dorothea’s instructions. Ingrid has a split second to feel betrayed by her girlfriend before Sylvain sinks a long finger into her and she jerks, crying out as her chest heaves. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ingrid gasps. 

Sylvain laps at her clit again and Dorothea’s lips fasten to the skin of her neck under her ear. Something hot and tight coils in her stomach and she whines Sylvain’s name, trying to rip her hands away from Dorothea but her girlfriend holds tight, restraining her. Sylvain withdraws his finger and sinks it in again, curling it and Ingrid yelps, almost crying as she pulls against Dorothea. 

Sylvain chuckles and repeats the motion, attaching his lips back to her clit and sucking. He speeds up his thrusting hand and adds a second finger. Ingrid’s toes curl and she wails as the tightness in her stomach snaps suddenly, thrusting her blindly into her orgasm. As soon as she cries out, Dorothea releases her hands and Ingrid grabs Sylvain’s hair, holding his head against her as she rides out the wave of her high. 

He tries to stay between her legs as she comes down, trying to be cheeky, and Ingrid yanks him back. Dorothea finally helps her, kicking him back until Sylvain sits back on his haunches, wearing a smug smirk. Ingrid flushes all the way down her neck as she peels her now-sweaty body away from Dorothea. Dorothea sits up, slipping out from underneath Ingrid and walking over to her closet. 

Ingrid’s gaze tracks between Sylvain, who still looks like he wants to devour her, and Dorothea, who reaches up and pulls down a black box from the top shelf of her closet. Sylvain’s expression flickers when he sees the box and one of his eyebrows lifts. Dorothea turns back to them, balancing the box on her hip. 

“Are you going to be good for us, Sylvain?” she asks. 

He nods. “I will.”

Dorothea waves a hand. “Then get comfy. Ingrid can keep you down while I get you ready.”

Dorothea places the box on the floor next to the bed and Ingrid is immediately distracted by Sylvain sliding up the bed, caging her against the pillows. Instead of trying to kiss her though, he nestles against her, resting his head just under her shoulder. His hips press against her thigh and she can feel how hard he is under his briefs. 

“Ingrid, dear,” Dorothea says. “Will you help Sylvain out of his briefs there? He won’t be needing them.”

Ingrid blinks over Sylvain’s broad, muscled back as Dorothea pulls the bottle of lube out of her desk. Her stomach tightens as she realizes, _very belatedly_ , where Dorothea and Sylvain have been guiding this encounter. 

“Oh,” she breathes. 

Sylvain chuckles and kisses the top curve of her breast. “Never change, Grid.”

He keeps kissing her there and Ingrid quickly reaches for his underwear, wiggling under him to push it down. His length, hard and warm, bounces up against her thigh as she frees him and Ingrid gives him a slow, cursory pump. Sylvain groans immediately, shuddering. He quickly reaches out, detaching her hand. 

“Don’t do that,” he mumbles. “Won’t make it past the first round if you do that.” 

Sylvain leans down, resting his mouth against her shoulder, not quite kissing and not quite biting, and Ingrid brings her hands up to smooth over the muscles of his back. Dorothea laughs to herself as she crawls onto the foot of the bed. She has the bottle of lube in one hand and a very shiny index finger on the other. 

Ingrid watches, almost breathless, as Dorothea bends towards Sylvain, stroking his ass. Sylvain grunts, his teeth digging into her shoulder. Dorothea’s hand drifts and Ingrid almost loses sight of it as her girlfriend slowly probes just the tip of her finger against Sylvain’s ass. Sylvain huffs and Ingrid strokes his hair, trying to be soothing while also trying not to let on how wet she feels watching Dorothea slowly inch her finger into Sylvain’s ass. 

Dorothea smirks as she does it, slowly working her finger in and out of the tight ring of muscle in short, rocking motions, until she can get it in almost all the way. “So accommodating, Sylvain,” Dorothea croons. Ingrid is used to that tone being directed at her and her thighs clench instinctively. 

Sylvain grinds his cock against her thigh, letting out a growl that breaks into a groan partway through. Dorothea withdraws her hand and pours another drizzle of lube over her fingers. She bends down, leaning almost over Sylvain and Ingrid’s bodies and smirks. 

“Ready for two?”

Sylvain nods urgently against Ingrid’s shoulder and Dorothea winks at Ingrid as she withdraws and then slowly pushes two fingers into Sylvain. Sylvain groans this time, his eyes fluttering. Ingrid’s breath hitches as she watches Dorothea slowly press in. Once her hand is in, she waits, giving Sylvain a second, and then slowly draws out. Sylvain grinds against Ingrid’s thigh again, mouthing at her shoulder. 

Dorothea slowly presses in again and pulls out immediately. Sylvain hums and Ingrid tries to close her thighs, almost desperate for some kind of friction. It’s one thing to watch Dorothea come apart underneath her or to fall apart between Dorothea and Sylvain’s touches, but she had never thought she would enjoy the sight of Dorothea sliding her fingers in and out of Sylvain as he trembles atop her. 

Dorothea crooks her fingers and Sylvain jerks, letting out an honest to god whimper. Dorothea raises an eyebrow at Ingrid as Sylvain pants. She continues thrusting her hand and smiles. Ingrid’s mouth goes dry as Dorothea pumps her fingers in and out of Sylvain. The slick noise of it feels deafening and Ingrid has to fight the buzzing urge to drop one of her hands between her legs. 

Sylvain’s body atop her is heavy and warm. He is rocking back to meet Dorothea’s hand on most of the motions, but he is also grunting heavily and mouthing at her chest. His length occasionally grinds against her thigh or the inside of her legs or the blankets below her and he lets out a longer moan when it happens, sinking his teeth harder into Ingrid’s collarbone. She grips his hair and can’t help the way that her hips jerk beneath him. 

“Ingrid,” Dorothea says, almost singing. “Do you want to make him come apart?”

“Thea,” Sylvain grunts. “I’m–”

“No, Sylvain,” she scolds. “You’re fine.” She punctuates that with a sharp hand motion. “You’ll hang on.” The words are so commanding and strict that Ingrid almost whines even though they’re not directed at her. 

It’s bewilderingly hot as Dorothea draws out of Sylvain and nudges his hip with her elbow. He huffs and shifts to the side, leaving Ingrid a path off the bed. She slips out from under him and Sylvain lowers himself back to the bed, propping up on his arms. Ingrid steps around the bed to Dorothea’s side, her eyes almost immediately falling to Sylvain’s ass. 

The skin is puckered and slightly pink and shiny with lube and Dorothea smirks, nudging Ingrid with her elbow. “Come here.”

Ingrid slides closer and Dorothea reaches for her hand, depressing the pump of the lube bottle until a healthy sheen coats Ingrid’s fingers. Dorothea grabs her wrist and guides it closer, pushing one of Ingrid’s fingers up and towards Sylvain’s ass. Ingrid holds her breath as she slowly presses her finger in. 

The muscle is tight as she pushes in slowly. It’s probably looser than it was, considering what Dorothea had been doing, but Sylvain shifts under her as she pushes in. Ingrid draws back and then back in, almost curiously. It’s not like when she has touched herself or Dorothea, but it’s not entirely weird either. Dorothea drapes herself along Ingrid’s back, kissing her shoulder.

“Go all the way. He can take it,” Dorothea suggests. 

Ingrid pushes her finger fully into Sylvain, meeting very little resistance. With the way Dorothea had fucked him on two fingers, it doesn’t really surprise her, but the sensation is still incredibly new. When Dorothea had suggested bringing Sylvain into the bedroom, this isn’t exactly what she had imagined, but as she withdraws her finger slowly and Sylvain makes a faint sighing noise, Ingrid feels powerful. Sylvain is big and strong, but he is spread below her on the mattress and she quickly presses her finger back in, hooking it and looking for a reaction. 

She gets a full-body shudder for her actions and Dorothea lets out a low hum. Dorothea curls her hand over Ingrid’s wrist and guides her into a smoother rolling and thrusting motion. Dorothea’s hips press against Ingrid’s rear and press forward. Ingrid sighs in anticipation, at the promise that her girlfriend’s motion suggests, and increases the pace with which she fingers Sylvain.

Dorothea leans in and whispers a suggestion which Ingrid quickly obliges, switching to two fingers. This time, there is more stretch and when she curls her fingers, Sylvain grunts, twitching. A glance around tells her that his cock is rock hard and curving up towards his stomach as he presses into the mattress, breathing heavily. With every motion she makes, Sylvain matches her, rutting back on her hand and then down into the bed, searching for friction. 

“How are you doing, Sylvain?” Dorothea asks. 

“It’s good,” Sylvain mumbles. “Feels good.”

“That’s Ingrid fucking you with her fingers, Sylvain,” Dorothea continues. “Ingrid’s buried all the way in you and she fucking you so well. You’re taking her hand so well.”

Ingrid almost whimpers at that. It hasn’t been that long since Sylvain was between her legs, but she already feels achingly wet again. She can’t imagine what Dorothea is feeling like. She continues pushing and pulling her fingers in and out of Sylvain as he huffs below her, gently rocking back to meet her motions. 

“Scissor your fingers,” Dorothea instructs. “We want to get him stretched out now.”

Sylvain groans before Ingrid even does anything and she bites her lip as she does as her girlfriend instructed, carefully pulling at him until his muscles flutter and loosen around her as she continues to stroke. Sylvain lets out a longer moan and juts his hips harder against the bed. 

“Good,” Dorothea says. She pulls Ingrid’s hand all the way back and pours more lube onto her fingers. Sylvain makes a soft noise when Ingrid’s hand vacates. “Now try three, babe.”

Ingrid lines up her hand and then almost collapses as Dorothea’s clever fingers suddenly drop between her legs, ghosting a touch over her clit. Dorothea stops when she sees that Ingrid hasn’t actually entered Sylvain. 

“Fuck him, Ingrid,” she says. “Then I’ll touch you.”

Ingrid immediately pushes three fingers into Sylvain. He curses and pants, twisting his head to try and look back at her. Dorothea brushes Ingrid’s clit lightly again and Ingrid sighs. Her eyes flutter at the combined lust of the way that Sylvain looks below her and how Dorothea touches her from behind. She slowly starts pulling her fingers back and Dorothea matches her pace, rubbing slow circles as Ingrid carefully keeps fingering Sylvain. 

Then, just as the heat in her stomach is starting to simmer again, Dorothea stops and pulls Ingrid’s hand back until she pulls out. Dorothea rubs Sylvain’s back just above his ass. 

“Still good? We’re gonna go to the strap if you’re good.”

“Please,” Sylvain mutters. “I’m good, just _please_.”

Dorothea smirks again. She pats Ingrid’s hip. “Come on, Ingy. Let’s get you in the harness.”

Ingrid knows the harness well enough that she almost trips as she tries to jerk it on. Dorothea laughs at her, kissing the corner of her mouth at her eagerness. Dorothea picks a slender dildo from the box, attaching it to the harness so that a short nub rubs against Ingrid’s clit opposite the end that will be going inside Sylvain. 

Dorothea kisses Ingrid again, holding the strap and grinding it back against her. Ingrid whines and plants her hands on her girlfriend’s waist, trying to get her to keep going, but Dorothea is somehow in perfect control as she leans away. 

Sylvain has rolled onto his side to watch the two of them, his eyes burning. Dorothea steps up to Sylvain and wraps a hand around his cock, stroking him a few times. His eyes flutter shut as he leans into the touch. Dorothea quickly pulls away, clicking her tongue. 

“You can’t come until Ingrid fucks you, Sylvain. You’ve been waiting for this moment, haven’t you?” Dorothea taunts.

Sylvain’s eyes open and he looks at Ingrid, almost worried, but apparently something on her face is reassuring because he shifts then, adjusting so he’s facedown on the bed again, leaning into the pillow with his face turned to the side. His whole body heaves with anticipatory breaths. 

Dorothea nudges Ingrid into position behind Sylvain and passes her a condom to roll down over the strap. Ingrid does it with shaky hands as Dorothea massages another pump of lube into and around Sylvain’s ass. Then, she reaches over and drags a slickened hand over the strap a few times until it is well lubed up. 

“When was the last time you got fucked, Sylvain? Was it when you came crawling to me before Ingy and I were official? I bet none of your _girls_ have ever fucked you like this.” Dorothea slowly pushes two fingers into Sylvain, sinking them in until he grunts. “I used to fuck him pretty often,” Dorothea whispers to Ingrid. “I’d fuck him until he would say your name, Ingy. He used to think of you when I fucked him.”

Ingrid’s breath hitches and her heart hammers. Dorothea pushes her forward by the ass until she’s bumping against Sylvain. She stops Ingrid before she can actually push the strap into Sylvain, withdrawing her fingers. 

“I’ve thought about you fucking him plenty,” Dorothea whispers. “Sylvain thinks he’s so tough. I think you should show him who’s really in charge here.”

Ingrid reaches out, her hand practically shaking, and carefully pushes the head of the strap against Sylvain until it sinks in. Sylvain immediately groans, whining loudly. 

“Fuck, _fuck_ ,” he gasps. 

“That’s Ingrid, Sylvain,” Dorothea calls. “She’s going to fuck you now.” Softer, and almost right in her ear, Dorothea whispers to Ingrid. “Look, babe, he’s all yours. You’re going to fuck Sylvain’s brains out.” 

Ingrid gasps as she pushes in slowly. There is some resistance, a back pressure, but Sylvain’s groan is _definitely_ one of pleasure and the slide isn’t that difficult. Equally, the resistance of his body causes the strap to grind back against her clit and she whines. Dorothea helps her slide in fully, Sylvain cursing and whining beneath her until her hips are pressed flat against the curve of his ass and she doesn’t dare move, shuddering as the nub rubs against her clit with every motion. 

Sylvain looks so pretty on Dorothea’s bed, his hands fisted in the sheets as he trembles and whimpers. She has him fully impaled on the strap and she wants him to fall apart. She wants to fuck him like Dorothea had been doing with her fingers and wants to see him completely destroyed. 

“Now back slowly,” Dorothea instructs Ingrid. 

Ingrid carefully draws out and Sylvain lets out a drawn-out groan, half-muffled in Dorothea’s pillow. Dorothea catches Ingrid by the hips before she can try to push in again and pours more lube over the strap. Then, she nudges Ingrid forward centimetre by centimetre until she’s all the way inside Sylvain again. 

“Alright, Ingy, I think he’s probably okay if you go nice and slow. Sylvain, are you okay?”

“G-good,” he whimpers. 

“You’ll say ‘Opera’ if you want us to stop?”

“Yes,” he practically begs. “Don’t stop.”

Dorothea smirks at Ingrid who is entirely flushed and aroused watching Sylvain beg beneath her. “Then I think you can go ahead, Ingrid.”

Ingrid pulls out on her own this time, stifling a faint moan at the friction against her clit. She doesn’t wait this time, pushing back into Sylvain almost immediately. He moans louder and his ass rocks towards her, meeting the thrust. 

Dorothea hums and spreads herself out on the bed next to Sylvain, watching as Ingrid continues to fuck him. Ingrid sees one of Dorothea’s hands slip beneath her underwear as she starts touching herself to the sight in front of her. 

“How does she feel, Sylvain?”

“Itssogood,” he slurs as Ingrid thrusts in again, this time putting a bit more force behind it. The motion drives the nub against her clit and she gasps, grabbing Sylvain’s hips. 

“That’s it, babe,” Dorothea encourages as she speeds her fingers on her clit. “You’re fucking him so well. He’s taking it so well.”

Ingrid moans again as she thrusts into Sylvain, harder this time. He twists his face against the pillow, his tongue lolling as he pants and moans in time to her thrusts. Sylvain looks stupidly fucked out underneath her, but he keeps rocking back to meet her, letting out whimpered moans that only half sound like her name. 

Ingrid sees Dorothea’s hand drift further back as she starts fucking herself on her fingers and Ingrid groans, her eyes shutting as she drives into Sylvain. 

She thrusts particularly hard on one motion and he makes a keening noise. “Ingrid, Ingrid, fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he wails. 

“Do that again,” Dorothea says. Her voice has lost its edge as she obviously brings herself close to her own crest. She reaches out, gripping Sylvain’s cock where he had been trying to rut against the blankets. “Fuck him good, babe.”

Ingrid tightens her grip on Sylvain’s hips and focuses on the budding tension between her legs that brightens with every thrust. She pushes a few harder, more urgent thrusts in as her legs start to shake from the intensity. Sylvain shakes below her, rutting into Dorothea’s hand and back against her, almost shouting her name as he comes, spilling into Dorothea’s hand and over the sheets. 

Ingrid immediately stops moving. Dorothea nods to her and motions for her to slowly pull out. She does, inching out of Sylvain like he might break. Sylvain, as soon as she releases him, flops to the side, draping an arm over his face as he pants heavily. His cheeks are flushed and his chest is sweaty and Ingrid is reminded she is still insufferably close to her own climax. 

Dorothea immediately stops touching herself and Sylvain, sitting up and practically tearing the harness off of Ingrid. It crashes to the ground next to the bed, but Ingrid doesn’t care as Dorothea shoves her back onto the bed next to Sylvain and sinks her hand between Ingrid’s legs. It only takes a few hard circles around Ingrid’s clit before Ingrid comes for the second time with a shuddering moan, rocking into her girlfriend’s hand. 

Dorothea slides up then, peering down at her. “Ingrid, baby, can you help me?”

Ingrid nods weakly and Dorothea sighs in relief, sliding up until she can straddle Ingrid’s face and grip the headboard. Ingrid desperately laps at her girlfriend’s centre, sucking Dorothea’s clit into her mouth. Sylvain groans next to her on the bed. 

“Fuck that’s hot,” he mutters. 

“Not as hot,” Dorothea pants, “as Ingrid fucking you was.”

Sylvain chuckles, but it’s a rough, raspy sound. He’s still incredibly fucked out and Ingrid sucks hard at Dorothea’s clit. _She did that._ She did that to Sylvain. She brings a hand up, sliding two fingers into her girlfriend as Dorothea moans above her, shaking as Ingrid finally brings her to a trembling peak. 

Dorothea almost collapses before she can get off of Ingrid, but she manages to maneuver down to lie on Ingrid’s other side, sandwiching her between sweaty bodies. Ingrid closes her eyes, her mind still spinning, and tries to take a few deep breaths. 

“Bet you didn’t know Sylvain liked getting fucked almost as much or more than he likes doing the fucking,” Dorothea pants, smirking. 

Sylvain laughs on Ingrid’s other side. “Do you still like being tied to your headboard?” he counters and Ingrid flushes heavily, her head snapping towards her girlfriend. 

Dorothea’s lips part in surprise and then she slowly relaxes into a smirk. “Guess we’ll see if you can get it up for another round, huh Gautier?


End file.
